“Debbie Goes to Court”
~ a story ~
This court case was unusual. A judge was present, but no attorney or jury. Who was being tried was not a person or corporation, but rather a belief and value of some. This enemy was called Perfectionism.
Debbie brought Perfectionism to trial since her belief in it, and what was taught about it by her parents, had ruined her life. Far from the blissful existence it tried to portray, perfectionism was sickness, sorrow, and a sad form of insanity.
In this case, the judge heard Debbie’s opening arguments. She spoke them to the judge and audience, some of whom were victims of Perfectionism as well.
“Perfectionism has made me hate myself when I couldn’t be perfect. I spent all my life, time and emotions trying for an impossible goal. This wore me out and robbed me of my life. I didn’t really live during this time, I barely existed, because Perfectionism made me feel I didn’t deserve to live.
Furthermore, Perfectionism has killed ballerinas and models and others who have to be thin for their professions. Movie stars and others have had their bodies cut and manipulated to look like someone else. Writers and artists throw out their pet projects if they think they can’t “get it right.” They sell their souls just for the state of perfectionism, which does not actually exist. And I can’t stand it anymore!” Debbie concluded.
A loud cheer arose from the audience. Anorexics and bulimics and militant dieters echoed Debbie’s sentiments and heard the words of freedom for perhaps the first time. Other guests listening to the court case agreed as this reflected how they, too, had been affected.
The judge pounded his gavel and asked for silence. He then praised Debbie for uncovering the truth.
“So how then should we live?” he asked.
“With patience and love for ourselves,” was the answer. “We need to remind ourselves that no one is perfect, nor do we have to be. If there is perfectionism at all, it should be the perfect letting go of unreal ideals that make us hurt ourselves or others.”
“Amen!” shouted the judge jubilantly. “Court stenographer, make sure you get this dowm: I grant peace and freedom to all those who have ruined or wasted their lives for Perfectionism’s sake. I’m announcing that Heaven is the only place that perfectionism exists.”
“And Debbie, since this is not a typical courtroom, I will now allow you to say or do anything you’d like in response to this.”
Debbie laughed with glee. From her purse she took two lipsticks and one small jar of paint. To the audience she waltzed up and stood in front of the Hollywood director. Quick as a flash, she drew designs all over his face with the lipsticks and poured the orange paint into his hair.
“Good luck, then,” the judge called to her retreating figure going out the courtroom door.
“Thank you, sir,” she called back. “I’m in a hurry to live my real life now!”